The months that had passed since Umi had taken her impromptu trip to Japan seemed to fly. Her mother was still angry about it, though she said she was 'disappointed'. Umi knew better. She also knew that she started the school year in September with far less freedom than she had previously. Umi did not blame her mother. She understood that leaving as she did was wrong, and that there needed to be repercussions. She just wished her mother was more understanding about why she had to do it.

It was a cold November morning when Umi set out for school. She and her mother had not exactly fought, but their conversation had been tense. She already knew her mother's feelings about the skiing trip Christa's mother had invited her on, but she had hoped to changed her mind on the matter. She had a few more weeks to work on it, but so far she had been unsuccessful. Her mother's mind was made up and every time Umi brought up the idea, she had the unexpected summer trip to Japan thrown back at her. Today was no different. Though today, her mother had added that not only would the ski trip be restricted, Umi would also not be able to go visit Yugi during the winter break with her mother. She grumbled to herself as she walked to the bus stop about how unfair things were and how much her winter break was going to suck.

Her dark mood followed her throughout the day. Every interaction, be it with teachers, other students, or her friends, was harsh and cold, colored by her frustration and her mother's disappointment.

Until Sixth Period.

Umi was sitting in class, daydreaming in an effort to boost her spirits as she stared out the window. Without warning, memories of brilliant blue eyes filled her mind and she wondered if what Yugi had told her during the summer was true. Had he forgotten her? She had no reason to think that he would remember her at all, but she could not break free from her memories of him. She was hurt that she had not been as memorable to him. She sighed. It had been nearly a year since they had met; it was only one kiss, yet it consumed her, especially in quiet times like now, when she was trying to avoid thinking about other things. She tried to shake the thought from her mind or supplant his eyes with those of another. It might work for a moment, but eventually, she knew, she would always go back to him. She was certain that Neferet's memories were to blame for her continued fascination. Neferet held such intense memories that Umi's cheeks colored just thinking about it. All of the thoughts swirled together in her mind, bringing forth some of the most intense memories Neferet had ever shown Umi of her time with her lover. The spirit herself was silent. Umi had pulled the memories out on her own. She tried to blink away the thoughts and focus on the rain that was gently falling. She wished she could run through it and let it cool her burning face.

Maybe it was for the best that he had forgotten her. She was likely to never see him again anyway. She sighed, wishing that she could let herself move on. She had tried. Josh had asked her out repeatedly since that day. Over time, he had worn down her resolve and she had gone out with him a couple of times. She may not like him in the same way that he liked her, but she was trying. She had also gone out with a few other people who had asked her. Unfortunately, she always compared them to that one brief moment where her eyes had locked with Seto Kaiba's and she saw the vulnerability behind his cold exterior. Even if they did manage to cross paths again, Umi was certain that her imagination had created someone out of that moment that does not exist. Even if the heat she had felt from the real Seto Kaiba was there, she wondered how reality would stack up to her fantasy. She knew it was stupid, pining for a boy that likely never existed in the first place, but she could not shake the thought from her heart.

She did not notice when the school secretary entered the room. She barely heard the teacher call across the class. The boy behind her tapped her on the shoulder as the teacher called her name. Umi felt cold as she looked up at the two adults standing near the door. A shiver traveled down her spine as they beckoned her to step out in the hall. Their faces were compassionate masks as they looked at her and then back to each other, whispering. Her chair scraped dully against the floor as she pushed away from her desk. She stood slowly, her movements wooden and stiff as if her body already knew and braced itself for bad news. She looked down at the blank paper and textbook on her desk. Her pencil sat in the crease of the open book, marking her spot.

"Bring your bag, Umi." The teacher ordered from across the room. The eyes of her classmates seared into her skin as the other students murmured quietly. She lay the paper across the open pages and closed the book, not bothering to remove her pencil. Her bag was heavy when she reached for it. Its weight had grown exponentially as she hefted it to the desk top. She placed the book meticulously inside the bag—nestled between her Calculus and Chemistry text books. She slipped her notepad into the bag along with the pouch made from a recycled kimono she used as a pencil case. The zipper cut through the silence and echoed in her ears as she pulled it closed. The straps of the bag cut into her shoulders as the weight settled against her.

Her classmates still stared, though the whispers had ceased. She looked for friendly faces in the crowd, but they all looked away as she tried to meet their eyes. The teacher and the secretary motioned for her once more.

Her steps rung out hollowly as her boots clacked against the dusty tile floor. Each step brought her closer to the adults waiting by the door, but each step was a labor in and of itself. Her heart raced, fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. Her skin prickled with cold that she knew was not from the air in the room. The eyes were boring into her once more as she passed her classmates—first down the row and then across. Heads turned as their gazes followed her. It was not unlike the time she had met him, but where his gaze burned her with desire, these eyes froze her. Her hands shook as she reached the adults at the door way. They turned their sympathetic gaze on her before motioning for her to step out the door. One. Two. Three steps and she was through. The secretary followed and the teacher closed the door behind him. The secretary wrung her hands nervously as her teacher peered through the door's small window. His eyes narrowed as he watched the class through the small rectangular pane.

"Umi." The secretary started, sighing. Umi looked up at the nervous older woman. "Your mother." She started, her voice cracking. "There's been an accident."

Umi released a breath. Her eyes glazed over as the world fell away from around her. The woman's voice grew distant, tinny in her ears.

"Umi, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…"

The warmth on Umi's cheeks now was salty and wet. The weight of her backpack pulled her to the floor where she landed heavily. She could not stop the shaking in her hands or the cry that erupted from her lips.

"Is she ok?" she wailed, her voice unsteady. She already knew the answer. The cold stone that had formed in the pit of her stomach calcified itself around the truth.

"I'm sorry, Umi." Her teacher crouched down beside her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and helped her up. "I'll take you to the office."

Strong hands lifted her up and guided her to the front. The nurse was waiting for her and directed Umi into the sick room. Another woman—the mental health provider was there waiting. Someone took the weight from her shoulders and directed her to a chair. Umi pulled her knees to her chest as the onslaught of tears continued.

"Yugi…" she whispered, her voice shaking.

Yugi was startled out of a happy dream as he heard his sister's voice echoing in his head. The pain and sadness in her spirit hit him like a tsunami.

"Umi." He panted, as panic gripped his heart. Something was wrong. He could feel her reaching out to him, grasping for him through the darkness blindly. He closed his eyes and tried to focus, but her pain was overwhelming. He needed to break through the darkness that was drowning her. He reached out for the puzzle that hung on the post of his bed. His fingers had barely brushed the gold surface when he felt the now welcome presence of his other self. He slipped the ancient cord over his neck and felt the spirit from within the puzzle blossom within his heart.

"What's wrong, Partner?"

"Other Me, I need your help." Yugi's entire being vibrated with anxiety. He had to find out what was wrong, but he needed more. More power, more information. But since he had completed the puzzle, his bond with Umi had dulled and he could no longer access her thoughts as he once had. Before the puzzle had been completed, he and Umi had shared a strong mental bond, through which thoughts, dreams and feelings passed easily. Umi had even used the bond as a spring board to appear to him in spirit. It scared the shit out of him when she showed up looking all ghost-like in his room, but like earlier, when she had shown up in Japan unannounced, it had been when he needed her most. Yugi had never quite managed to send his spirit to her, but he hand on occasion been able to see through her eyes.

Until he had completed the puzzle.

Something about the puzzle had weakened their normal connection. Vivid thoughts and dreams faded to vague feelings and a distant sense of whether things were right or wrong with the other. And right now, Yugi could feel that something was extremely wrong with Umi.

The spirit, his Other Self, had told him that he also felt a connection to Umi, but he could not explain what it was or why it was there. Yugi had gotten the impression that Umi frightened him somehow, but his Other Self could not, or would not elaborate. Yugi only hoped that he could use the spirit's connection with her to jump start his own. He needed to be with her, and he could not reach her physically.

"I need to reach my sister." Yugi told his Other Self. "Something's happened. Something terrible."

"What is it?"

"I don't know." Yugi felt panic rising within him as his Other Self responded reluctantly. "Please, Other Me. I can't reach her alone." He clutched the puzzle to his chest as he felt the spirit flow into him. Usually the spirit would push his own consciousness deep down into a small part of his heart. His encounter with Shadi before they left Pegasus' island had shown him that his heart had been divided in two. When his Other Self took over, he felt like he was closed off into that small room, while his Other Self expanded. But today was different. Today they stood as equals. Yugi felt the spirit take his hand and the two joined together in a blinding light. It was the most intimate experience Yugi had ever had. He stood before his Other Self vulnerable and exposed—all of his insecurity and fear on full display. His Other Self's normal confidence was drawn away to show his fears as well. Yugi had often wondered if his Other Self was really a part of him that had been hidden until he solved the puzzle, or if it was a completely different entity. In that moment, when they joined and their spirits became linked, Yugi realized that his Other Self's true nature was likely a bit of both. And in that moment, Yugi knew his Other Self completely—or as completely as the spirit knew itself. He felt bigger, more expansive but he also felt like a part of his soul had clicked into place. He was completed in a way he never knew he was missing. He had never imagined feeling so whole with another person, and he doubted that any physical intimacy could match the spiritual connection he was feeling.

"Find her, Partner." The spirit's quiet voice said from deep within. He could feel the spirit and the puzzle anchoring him as he stretched out to his sister.

When the light had faded, Yugi found himself in a small room filled with the harsh illumination of a fluorescent light bulb. The walls were a pale gray, nearly white and they seemed to close in on him. It was furnished like the nurse's office at his school, if only the office had been squeezed into a closet as an afterthought. A narrow bed lined one wall and was more like a cot than an actual bed. On another wall, a small wooden supply cabinet floated above a small sink. And squeezed into the remaining corner, Yugi saw his sister curled into a ball on a chair. Her body was trembling, but she looked at him with wide, dry eyes.

"Umi." He reached out for her, but his spirit fingers passed through her hand like air. Her eyes seemed vacant and numb, their usual light and laughter dulled.

"Yugi." Her voice was flat.

"What happened?" he asked, anxiously. She seemed so different than her usual self. He knew that she was terrified and was having a difficult time.

"Mom…" She said softly, slowly. "Mom died." Her lower jaw trembled as she gave voice to the words, and Yugi felt his heart break for her. He reached out for her again, with the same effect. He cursed silently. He needed to hold her, to comfort her, to let her know that he was there and that everything would be alright, eventually. But he could not even touch her.

"Umi, come home." He told her as he felt himself fading and slipping back into his own skin. When he opened his eyes, he realized that he was crying.

"Partner…" his Other Self started, but trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Yugi rushed to his grandfather's room.

A police officer stood in the doorway to the small sick room with the school nurse. Umi answered their questions automatically, not really registering what was being asked of her. Before long, she was being escorted to the police car and driven to the hospital where she would need to identify and claim her mother's body. She felt Neferet stir within her, and the spirit's memories overlapped her own experiences. Umi was led by the police officer and a young woman in a lab coat down a long sterile corridor in the basement of the hospital. Neferet led the way through a long narrow sandstone corridor, two guards flanking her. Lights flickered along the way—Umi in sterile cold fluorescent light, Neferet in the light of torches and oil lamps. The opening to their right led the way to the face of death. Umi was met by a double door of cold steel and tiny windows. The room was harshly lit beyond. Neferet faced another pair of guards—royal guardians of the pharaoh standing on either side of a dark opening. A faint reddish glow shone in the distance. They stepped through and were met by a face so beloved, but now faded. A man in a lab coat motioned Umi to come closer, to inspect the body as he pulled a sheet back fulling revealing the face of her mother. Neferet was faced with a priest masked as the God of Death himself who spoke to her not as a daughter mourning her father, but as God's Wife. Umi nodded as the adults spoke to her, asking her to verify her mother's identity. The man pulled the sheet back over her mother's cold ashen face. The young woman handed her a small bag of items they had taken off of her mother's body. Neferet's hands moved deftly over the withered corpse of her father, carefully placing amulets and charms to assist him in his underworld journey. They both thought, looking at the bodies laying on their respective slabs, that their brothers should be here. Neferet looked at the face of her father, his skin pulled tight against his skull as the moisture from his flesh was absorbed by the sacred natrum. Umi looked at the sheet covered lump, recalling the corpse's face—still firm and smooth as if her mother was sleeping, but grayed and dull as the man asked her about her plans for the body. Umi looked at him as if the thought had only now occurred to her that she would have to make such decisions. She looked back to the table upon which her mother's body rested. The visions of Neferet caring for her father's body faded as Umi backed away from the reality facing her. She could feel the cool steel of the doors pressing against her back despite the jacket she had worn that day, or perhaps it was the chill in her soul as she faced the matter that had once been her mother. She roughly pushed the door open and hurried down the corridor and back to the lobby.

The light was warmer in the lobby, but it did little to ease Umi's mind. She pushed her way through the people waiting patiently, not seeing or caring who she pushed out of her way. All she saw was the ashen face of her mother—eyes closed, nose slightly bent, lips blue. She squeezed her eyes shut against the image, but it would not leave her. Strong arms wrapped around her as she walked through the sliding doors and toward the traffic on the road they opened onto.

"Umi, stop!" A familiar voice called. It was one of her mother's colleagues, a man she had grown up knowing as her 'uncle'. "Come back inside, Umi." She moved numbly as he directed to a chair. She looked into his brown eyes and could tell that he had been crying. Why had he been crying? She thought realizing that she had not yet cried. She glared at him and his gall to grieve over her mother before her. She gasped as he pulled her into his chest and told her how sorry he was and how wonderful her mother had been. His words were soft, tender and Umi felt herself break. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to the cold tile floor of the hospital waiting room as sobs overcame her. When she stopped, they were sitting in a small dimly lit and sparsely furnished room. The sofa on which she sat was old and worn and smelled of tears, hers now included. Her mother's colleague—Derek, she thought finally able to put a name to his face—sat with her. She looked up at his graying hair and scraggly beard as he talked with a hospital employee. She was not sure if the woman was a doctor or someone else, but they were discussing arrangements for her mother's remains. She reached for a tissue from a box on the table that separated from the woman.

"We can provide you with information on several good funeral homes." The woman offered.

"She needs to go home." Umi added, speaking for the first time since she ran from the morgue. The adults looked at her expectantly. "Her… remains. They should be with Father."

Derek squeezed her hand.

"She will, Umi. But first we need to attend to her other wishes." Umi looked up at him. She wondered how he knew so much about her mother's wishes when she was coming up blank. He fixed her with a sympathetic smile and answered as if he was reading her mind. "Your mother made me her power of attorney until you turned 18." Umi stared at him with mixed emotions racing through her. Her mother had never told her. Umi was relieved that she would not have to make all of the decisions alone, but she also wondered just how close her mother and 'Uncle' Derek had been. Part of her felt betrayed and angry.

"We'll figure out what to do with you later, Umi." He said off-hand before turning back to the woman. Umi felt her blood run cold.

Yugi was a tearful mess as he shook his grandfather awake. The old man's eyes opened slowly as the telephone began to ring.

"Grandpa. Mom's had an accident." Yugi said hurriedly. The ringing phone harshly punctuated his words.

"Ok, Ok, Yugi. I'm awake. Answer the phone." The old man said as he slowly sat up in bed. Yugi wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, but the tears would not stop. He picked up the phone.

"Hello, Muto residence." He said formally into the receiver. An American voice apologized for calling so early and asked for his grandfather.

"Is this about my mother?" Yugi asked, timidly. The voice on the other end of the line gasped slightly in surprise. Yugi was about to ask what happened when his grandfather tapped him on the shoulder. Yugi anxiously passed him the phone before making some tea. His tears dried as he watched his grandfather and tried to listen to the conversation The kettle sounded and he poured the boiling water over the leaves in the pot.

"Yes. I see. Thank you. Yes. We will. Thank you again." Yugi heard his grandfather say, his English halting from lack of use. Yugi watched as he sat heavily at the table after hanging up the phone.

"Yugi." He started, trying to find the words. Yugi placed a cup of tea in front of him.

"Mom's dead." Yugi supplied quietly. "I know. Umi told me."

The old man ran a withered hand over his haggard face and sighed.

"What are we going to do about your sister?" he asked as Yugi sipped on his tea. He had asked—no had told Umi to come home, but he was certain that his headstrong sister would have her own plans. He reached out to her as he took another sip of his tea. Her presence was weak in his mind, dull and cold and definitely not her usual vivacious and commanding self. He sighed in unison with his grandfather. They drank their tea in silence.

"You should try to get some rest, Yugi." His grandfather said eventually before draining his cup. Yugi took a sip of his own tea and was shocked to find that it had grown cold. Yugi nodded as he swallowed the last bit of tea. He glanced back at his grandfather as he made his way up the stairs to his room. He watched the old man's shoulders shake as he finally let grief come.

He tried to do as his grandfather suggested, but Yugi found himself staring at the ceiling. He never noticed the crack that stretched from the wall to the light fixture, but now he felt he had memorized every turn and angle. The tears had returned, but they fell silently.

"Partner." The spirit's voice beckoned, but it was not from within, or from the puzzle. He propped himself up on his elbows to look at the foot of his bed. He saw an ethereal figure sitting there, it's legs and arms crossed. It looked like him, but was not him. He wondered if that was what he looked like when the spirit had control of his body.

"Other Me." Yugi pulled himself to a full sitting position, crossing his legs beneath him.

"I don't understand. Why are you crying?"

Yugi brushed the tears from his cheeks.

"My mother died." He replied, assuming that was reason enough. The spirit looked at him, his brows knitted together in confusion.

"But she wasn't very important to you. Not like your grandfather." Yugi had to admit that he had a point.

"Maybe not, but she was still my mother. I can still be sad." Yugi rocked back and forth. "And I can still feel sad for Umi."

"Your sister."

"Yes."

"She has a darkness around her. She seems familiar. Familiar but wrong." The spirit sighed.

"She has said the same thing about you, Other Me." Yugi leaned forward. The spirit turned to him with shock on his face. "She said that since I completed the puzzle I have a darkness to me, that it sometimes shrouds my light." Yugi sighed before stretching out along the bed once more. "But I don't know what she's talking about. All I know is that with you, I feel like I can take on anything."

"Partner." The spirit was at a loss for words. Yugi grinned up at the ceiling. He still felt a hollow spot in his heart knowing that he would never see his mother again, but he had gained so much recently that he could ignore it for a while. He reached out to his sister once more and shared her onslaught of pain as she was finally struck with the reality and gravity of the situation.

"You feel her pain." The spirit stated as Yugi's grin fell. The spirit's presence faded and Yugi felt his warmth spreading throughout him, anchoring him once more. Yugi curled on his side, cradling the puzzle against his chest. He could feel his Other Self's silent encouragement as he reached out for his sister once more, just to let her know that he was with her. Yugi's body felt full of warmth and light as he drifted off to sleep, his essence merged with his Other Self and entwined with his sister.

Umi could feel the comforting presence of her brother as she rode to her friend Christa's house in Derek's car. She was slightly ashamed that she had not realize that Derek and her mom had actually been dating for the last four years.

"At the hospital, they gave you her things, right?" he asked as he pulled in front of the house. Umi nodded.

"Yeah." She clutched the small plastic bag to her chest. "It doesn't seem like it was everything from the car though."

"You haven't looked at it?" he asked. Umi shook her head as he pulled the bag away. He frowned as he rummaged through it, like he was looking for something that was not there. He pulled out a delicate gold chain with a golden eye suspended from it. The eye was a symbol that Umi was familiar with from her childhood, and her mother had worn the necklace as long as Umi could remember. It was not exactly the eye of Horus, but it was similar and vaguely reminiscent of the stone tablet she had spent the summer piecing together.

"She would have wanted you to have this." Derek said as he held out the ends of the chain. "Let me put it on you." Umi looked at the older man. His smile seemed kind, but there was a coldness in his eyes that Umi had never noticed before. She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned her back to him, sliding her long black hair to one side. He fastened the chain around her neck slowly. Umi could feel his breath against her skin as he whispered to her.

"We should get together tomorrow to discuss the arrangements Sakura made." His fingers brushed the back of her neck as he pulled her hair through the secured necklace. Umi felt a chill run down her spine. She nodded, knowing she would have to see him again, but vowing to bring a friend with her. She opened the passenger door and stepped out. As she hurried up the walk to Christa's house, she remembered that he had put her backpack in the car's trunk. He stood next to the car holding the bag as she turned around. He leered at her as she walked back to him.

"Thanks." She said, coolly. The smirk he gave her was less kind as his eyes traveled the length of her.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He called to her retreating back. She felt his eyes on her as she rang the bell and waited for someone to answer. She had sent Christa a text asking to sleep over, but her phone had died before she had gotten a reply. She fidgeted and nervously glanced over her shoulder while she waited what had to be the most excruciating minute for Christa's mother to answer the door.